101 Ways to Talon
by lnori
Summary: This time I'll be writing a one-shot collection with Talon and different female characters. Themes, ratings and genres may wary. 3rd chap.: Talon & Katarina
1. Ode for a Ghost (Talon & Lux)

_**Ode for a Ghost**_

 **Summary** : After losing everything for the second time in his life, Talon ventured aimlessly around Runeterra, only to happen upon the Lunar Revel Festival in Ionia, where he met a rather peculiar woman who were more than she let on. After meeting her, Talon's life took a rather different turn, and he had become enchanted, despite the brisk encounter. But fate is a cruel mistress, and Talon would soon see her again, albeit under different circumstances.

 **Characters:** Talon, Lux

 **Genre:** romance, drama

 **Rating:** M (for smut)

* * *

Men were mostly covered in weaknesses; they would lose track of their selves over the smallest things, such were the spells of the universe. Few Noxians would lose themselves over details, as most of them acted first and thought after. He never bent. That was the path he had chosen as an assassin, and later on, as a Du Couteau. Ever since becoming part of the prestigious Noxian family which was equivalent to royalty, he had sworn to himself and to the memory of his father, never to stray from his path. Thus, he had cast away most unnecessary sentiments, such as empathy, mercy and compassion. But he was a walking paradox. Even though he condemned loyalty, he was still keeping a promise made to a ghost, and even though he swore never to feel anything relatively close to affection, he had pitifully fallen into the abyss called _love_. With someone towards whom he was never supposed to feel anything more than brotherly affection.

Talon Du Couteau was a notorious assassin contemplating his very own existence to the point of driving himself mad with feelings of love towards a certain redhead. It shouldn't have been a surprise, really. Growing up next to her, witnessing her blossom into a beautiful woman, and watching her give herself away to countless men did not help his cause. And yet, he had harboured feelings of love towards Katarina. But as it was expected, he never acted upon those feelings, even though the urges were eating him on the inside out. And even when she tore apart his heart and stepped on it when she decided to get married to a Demacian, nonetheless, all he was left to do was congratulate her and move on with his life.

Not even attending her only relative's wedding, Talon set off on a journey thorough Runeterra, deciding to down his sorrows by visiting countless cities and bedding even more women. And so it happened that he arrived in the capital city of Ionia, when they held their famous Lunar Revel Festival, illuminating the city and the nearby region with bright colours of red and orange.

Pulling the hood over his eyes, masking most of his features, Talon walked through the crowds and looked around, analysing the happy bunch having a good time. The cheerful music and the multiple smells of food, accompanied by the endless chatter of people did manage to brighten his mood. There were a lot of festivities scheduled, and even fireworks to close the second day of the festival, but all Talon needed at that moment was a good drink, in an isolated place.

Being away from Noxus did not mean that he had no information on certain people, even if he went away for a year already. The best part in walking among people unnoticed was that he could pick up a lot of gossip and speculations.

"Did you hear that the future queen of Demacia ran off again?"

"No way! Why did she run away again? This makes it the third time ever since the engagement."

"Maybe she doesn't want to get married to the crowned prince?"

"Who wouldn't _want_ to marry into royalty?!"

Mostly, he heard gossip. And the subject people loved to overuse was the questionable behaviour of the future Demacian queen. Cow-something, or Crow-something, whatever the name of the family was. Oddly familiar, at any rate.

Then again, Talon learned to filter information and to mould it to his preferences.

Such as, among the red and orange lights and the constant movement, he spotted white. It felt as though his eyes could only see that white, Ionian dress – albeit a bit too short – and the beautiful curves it hugged. Everything else shut out around him, and the assassin found himself daftly following that erratic sway of hips.

Talon ended up in front of a bar, and very much to his satisfaction, at that. The nymph must've walked in there, or maybe she was just a ghost leading him on. At any rate, he was rather content. Pushing back his hood, revealing messy locks of hazel to the cold Ionian air, the assassin walked into the bar without a second thought.

As expected, inside was full. Not that he minded, the only problem being that there was no empty table. So he had to take a stool by the bar. At least the music and the chattering of people were a little dimmed there, compared to the rest of the bar.

After taking a seat, he undid his dark cloak from around his shoulders, and placed it on the vacant seat next to him, and, running a hand through messy hair, he pondered what to order. He would have to get a haircut, quite soon.

"What would it be?" The bartender, a tall and meaty guy sporting long ginger bread asked, as he placed fat hands on the counter.

"Bilgewater brandy," Talon replied curtly, hands still caught up in his hair. It was annoying, as his hair ended somewhere around his shoulders, and was a pain to take care of.

The bartender winked at him. "You certainly have high tastes, lad," and went away to prepare a drink.

A breeze of air seemingly waltzed into the bar, and all chatting momentarily stopped, bringing forth a deafening silence. Talon was probably the last one to notice the sudden shift of atmosphere, but it was mainly because he didn't care. Only when he saw from the corner of his eye a certain white dress did he turn around to look. And his eyes nearly widened at the sight. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Although she had a different beauty, compared to Katarina, who was raw and crude, the woman standing in front of him had an air of alluring coldness around her, like an endless chain of mountains clothed in white. She was on the shorter side, quite slender, but with all the curves in the right places and pale skin. Her blonde locks were messily tied in a bum, save for a few rebel ones framing her heart shaped face, and she wore the same Ionian white dress he spotted earlier, but with red trimming around her collar, travelling down to the ends of her dress. Even though the dress was short, it revealed little of those milky thighs, as red stockings hugged her legs, matching with the silken gloves which ended around her elbows. The last touch was black, heeled boots, up to her knees. But the most astonishing part had to be her face; aside from the beautiful shape, she had a small nose, plump lips painted red and a pair of big, cobalt eyes with long lashes. She was completely breathtaking. And Talon must have been staring for minutes.

"Excuse me." She repeated with annoyance.

Talon returned to reality and mouthed an apology. "What was it?"

She rolled her eyes, thinking that she'd get away with the gesture. She did not. She was beautiful, but was already showing a bad personality. "I said, would you kindly take your cloak? It happens that's the only open spot." Her voice was flat, but otherwise it was pretty.

What else to be expected of someone like her?

Yet, her antics were slightly tipping him off. With other men, she could probably have her way easily, but Talon was not other men. And if there was something he disliked more than being social, it was the airs of spoiled princesses.

So, instead of giving in to her, the assassin turned his body around, to face her and leaned his head into his palm resting on the counter. "I'm afraid I cannot kindly take my cloak, as I'm meeting someone here." It was a bluff, but the princess wouldn't have means of knowing.

Instead, she rolled her eyes. "Please," she gestured with her wrist, "people like you are lone wolves."

Wow, spoiled and idiotic, wasn't she?

"Well, _people like me_ are waiting for someone, so the cloak stays on the stool." He regarded her with a fake smile, as she was already getting on his nerves. And Talon rarely lost his cool.

The woman made a face, but his taunting barely scratched the surface. She was clearly not that affected by the whole ordeal. Then again, all eyes were on them and Talon was very much aware that the more he kept her waiting, the angrier the pigs would become. And princesses always got what they wanted. Though he wouldn't mind toying with her a little longer, and under different circumstances.

"Now, now, we should all calm down," the deep voice of the bartender brought both hot-headed parties back to reality, and he give Talon his order. "It's on the house," he then added and motioned towards the cloak. Talon understood what he meant, so, complying, her removed his cloak, indirectly letting the woman win their small contest.

She took a seat, and the rambling returned a moment later, but Talon noticed that she held no expression of victory of superiority whatsoever. Maybe she didn't consider it a win either.

"And what can I get you, Lux dear?" The bartender asked, regarding the woman.

Talon nearly choked on his brandy, at the endearing word. The familiarity the bartender used was rather shocking indeed.

"The regular, Gragas. Thank you."

He ended up minding his own business, namely swimming in the abyss Katarina's loss produced and the hole in his heart, without looking towards the woman sitting next to him, pretty much doing the same amount of pondering. She was called _Lux_. That certainly didn't sound Ionian. Then again, she didn't look Ionian either. But Talon was quite sure he had heard that name somewhere before.

A few minutes into the woman called Lux setting in and savouring her drink, a man walked up to her and tried a few lame pick-up lines to get her attention. It obviously didn't do the trick. Soon, the second, third and fourth all tried their luck, and by the time the seventh asked whether she had fallen from heaven, Talon was having a hard time holding back a smile.

"No, I crawled up straight from hell," the blonde retorted with one of the most angelic smiles, combined with a killer aura.

The assassin burst out in laughter, but had to cover his mouth to hold back his laughter. Luckily, nobody noticed him, as he was good at blending in with the shadows. Or maybe the spotlight was on the woman. Then again, Talon liked to believe that he blended in good with the shadows.

"Are you taking me for a fool?" The brute was annoyed and he grabbed a hold of Lux's arm quite fiercely, jerking her around a bit.

Talon's first instinct was to step in, but decided not to. If she dared to walk around on her own and dressed in such manner, then she could handle her own problems. Besides, he wouldn't step in for a stranger, and lose the comfortable cloak of the shadows.

And, well, an assassin is mostly right. "Come on, Trumpers, cut it out before someone gets hurt," Gragas tried to reason with the man, but there was no stopping him.

"I'm not stopping until this bitch is put down to her pl–" He didn't even get to finish his sentence, as he found himself catapulted through the bar and landing into the farthest wall. All Lux had to do was lift a finger.

"Good grief. They never learn." Gragas face palmed himself as he heaved a heavy sigh and refilled Lux and Talon's glasses.

What the assassin noticed then was that they both had the same brand of drink. The crowd also diminished from around the blonde, the suitors having lost their balls to try and impress her with lame pick-up lines.

"What?" The blonde – a mage, surprisingly – asked with a grumpy voice, directed towards him.

"What what?" Talon repeated her question, lifting his own glass to his lips. He had lost count of how many he had downed in the hour he had spent there.

Lux rolled her eyes in annoyance. "You must be a clever one." Her sarcasm was quite in contrast with her appearance as well, but then again, the blonde was a paradox in her own way.

Talon didn't plan to run an analysis on her, since she would be a brief encounter, but the grimaces and the sarcasm did hit base, in their own ways. She was unique, he'd give her that. And with a character like that, no wonder she was single. Or, well, that's what he guessed, since she'd be quite a lot to handle. In retrospect.

"Thank, Mrs. Sunshine," Talon retorted with an eye roll of his own.

"Pff. Yeah right." She must have made another face and tended to her drink.

Gragas refilled their glasses once again, and this time, Talon caught the woman looking his way. Unable to down the alcohol due to her stares, he turned to face her. And the moment he did, he felt as though an ocean of blue was about to swallow him whole. The bar was poorly illuminated, and there was noise around them, but when his amber eyes locked with cobalt blue ones, he momentarily forgot how to even breathe.

"You're staring," Lux stated with drawn brows.

Talon let out a sigh and decided to have a sip. "You were the one staring before, for your information."

"Yes," she nodded, without a care, "I was wondering when your companion is going to arrive." She did like to provoke people, be it intentional or not.

The assassin had a hard time holding himself back. But doing that was probably easier than peeling himself off of some wall. "People like me, and I quote, _are lone wolves_."

"Well, that makes two of us." Lux stated and lifted her glass, clacking it against Talon's own. "Cheers."

It did make sense. Sure, she might have had personality issues, but she was strong enough to look after herself. And her mouth probably fitted better with a sailor than a beauty like her, but everyone is flawed.

"Cheers, I guess..."

And suddenly, Talon was lost in the transition. One moment, he was staring at the summer sky, or the ocean – he wasn't so sure anymore – and the following one, his lips crashed against hers in a futile attempt to pin her against the bed. Her lipstick must have smeared his lips but he couldn't care less. No rational thoughts waltzed in his head anymore, the only thought dominating the assassin's body was to fuck that woman senselessly.

But she was headstrong, and she wouldn't give in, even if he held her by her wrists, even as he sneaked between her legs. Somehow, she always found a way around him. And her kisses were infuriating, if not enchanting. The softness of her lips combined with the aftertaste of alcohol, it drove him mad.

Lux broke the kiss, awfully needing some air, but her hands never left the quest of discovering the frames and lines of the man driven by passion just as she was. Slender fingers caressed his lean frame, first playing with the messy locks of hair, then tracing her fingertips over his neck and collarbones, and now tugging playfully at the hem of his black shirt. Talon cocked a brow upwards, but let her do her thing, allowing Lux to take off the shirt with ease.

"We've got a cheeky princess here, don't we?" The assassin teased, taking a hold of her wrists once again, hovering over her just enough not to crush her with his weight. His position was rather comfortable, he had to confess. Nestled between her legs, feeling her thighs at his sides and holding her hands hostage, it was a position many wouldn't even dare to dream of. Not to mention that her already short dress had nestled somewhere around her waist, revealing the lacy undergarments she had been wearing. Not that Lux seemed very bothered about it.

Instead, she pried free and locked her arms around his neck, bringing the assassin down to her level. Resting his weight onto his elbows, Talon closed his eyes and allowed the hunger to dictate his following steps. Her body fitted perfectly underneath his, and the way she responded to his kisses, it only managed to drive him mad. Talon's hand nestled into her hair, which had come undone with the simplest of touches, but he still felt the need to grab a hold of the blond locks, his fingers lost in the softness.

Curious hands mimicked his own gesture, with the only difference that she pulled, as her back arched into him, her kisses reflecting hunger. It was hot between them, hot around them and neither of the two felt comfortable enough in their own skins. Lux tugged at his hair, earning a weak grunt from the man, and trailed her nails further on his flesh, olive skin set on fire with every path her nails left behind. All the while his rough hands travelled from her hair to the small of her shoulders, hesitating just a bit over her breasts and coming to a stop on her narrow hips. He could feel the bones sticking out, even through the dress. Long fingers then tried to discover how her skin felt like, where her thighs didn't provoke him to more perverted thoughts, but Talon quickly retracted them after a second thought. He didn't want to discover stuff about her, how she felt, he wanted to fuck her without a care and let go of the accumulated stress.

So, with a swift movement, the assassin took a knife out of nowhere, and he noted that even as he manoeuvred it in front of Lux, her eyes never fazed. So, instead he proceeded on cutting open the white dress, but not expecting the slight bounce of her small and round breasts, once he pried it off of her. She hadn't been wearing a bra. Lovely.

"Good job, now it's ruined," she made a face in annoyance. "Dresses come with zippers, you know." The blonde then added with sarcasm.

The knife out of sight just as it had appeared, Talon only rolled his eyes and leaned into her, placing his hands on those beautiful breasts and to suckle on her neck. Tiny mewls of appreciation escaped the mage's lips, and Talon kept playing with her breasts, his mouth joining soon. And just as soon, he was everywhere around her. While his mouth and one hand were busy with her breasts, his other travelled further south to ignite her until she could no longer hold her ground. He never touched her stockings though. Damn him and his fetishes.

Long fingers pulled at her underwear and Lux lifted her legs, allowing him to swiftly take it off, and shuddered at the coldness she felt. But the assassin was quick to cover her with his whole being, his fingers tantalizingly circling her folds. The mage cried out when he touched a bundle of nerves, and he applied more pleasure, still caressing her folds. His mouth still on her breasts, and his fingers eventually moved to her entrance, circling it and making the blonde pull at his hair.

"Don't." Was all she said, but what she heard in response was a mean chuckle. They both knew who had the power.

But Talon wanted to feel the pleasure as well, even though she had to get wet first. That wasn't a very difficult task however, as, when he teased her with a finger she was already wet and moaning. The second one followed and the blonde allowed a beautiful eruption of her voice as he worked on his pace. That, and the way she was practically clawing at his scalp.

Forcing himself away from her grasp, the assassin rose a bit to also catch some air, his other hand securing the woman by her stomach. She was a beautiful mess, the more he used his fingers to please her. But she looked so fragile, that she might break at any given second. Not that Talon cared so much.

"Let's do it already, I can't wait anymore," she pleaded and Talon was glad to comply.

His fingers left her hot insides, to which she only sighed, but once his pants and underwear were gone, he took a hold of her legs, running his fingers over her thighs and stockings, and noticing the chuckle she had given. "Like them?" Lux then taunted.

"Shut up," he retorted and to make a point as to whom in charge was, he teased her entrance with his tip. At that, she shuddered visibly.

Talon enjoyed it, he enjoyed it maybe too much. But he couldn't wait anymore either, so he entered her carefully, following any shift in her, if there would be any. Her body seemed a bit stiff, her mouth open but not producing any sounds, hands clawed around his forearms.

"Oh god," she eventually breathed, slowly relaxing around his length. He was a handful, she'd give him that, and she never dealt with something like that before. He fit right in, it felt as though he occupied every place within her, and it only made Lux wonder just how it would feel once he started moving.

Still, she didn't miss the smirk, nor the victorious look on those handsome features and her only response was an exaggerated roll of eyes. If she thought she had regained some control, she was awfully wrong. Talon thrust in her without as much as a warning, and the mage responded with a high pitched shriek and nails digging into his flesh. He loved toying with her, her responses being the most honest ones she could produce.

But he still needed a release, and he needed it badly. So, he started to move with a steady pace, leaning forward and meeting Lux's gaze. She couldn't help herself but cry out whenever he pushed his whole length into her and retracted, only to repeat the process. It was a nice, and steady pace, and she loved it. But Talon wanted something else. So he fastened the pace, thrusting into her harder, more hectic than before. And by the way she screamed atop of her lungs, nearly tearing at his flesh with her nails, she must have loved it too.

"Oh god, how do you even –" Her question was silenced with another scream of pleasure, as Talon made a point. But he wanted to get deeper than that and have his release, so, with swift movements, he grabbed onto her shoulders, lifted the mage with ease and turned her around, forcing her on her fours.

Under different circumstances he would've probably admired her forms longer, the arch of her back, her shoulders, the nice shape of her ass and those _goddamned_ stockings, but his prime objective was fucking her from behind. And since he didn't hear any complaints from the blonde, she must have been fine with it. She parted her legs a bit more, leaning her round ass into him, demanding him back and Talon was more than glad to comply.

Only, he entered her with a quick thrust, and Lux nearly fell forward in the friction it caused her. Grabbing onto her hips and running his palm over her butt cheek from time to time, Talon's pacing was uneven, hungry and fuelled by lust. Lux felt the same kind of need, and all she could focus on was the building tension in the pit of her stomach. He was filling her in every place, in all kinds of ways, and she could no longer fight the heat. Her climax was coming closer and closer, with the way he thrust in her, the way he grabbed onto her so crudely it will probably leave marks, the way his balls were slapping against her flesh, the erratic of his breathing and the next thought she had was how blissful it was to be fucked so well by such a man. Her voice was high, and it lasted wave after wave, as he kept thrusting into her even after she was spent, her body twitching in the afterglow, body fallen against the sheets, but her ass up in the air, as held together by his strong hands.

It was wonderful, how she felt, how he made her feel, and how he kept violating her even after she had her orgasm, when her body was the most sensitive. Lux's voice became louder, the moment he began pounding into her, small grunts leaving his mouth, in cue with the pressure he was feeling. And soon, Lux's body jerked, as he filled her in yet another way, one she was definitely not expecting. Her body shook again, just as his hands did, just as he collapsed on top of her, not quite pulling out yet.

It felt too good, it was too warm to leave.

But he was also tired. So, so tired, that he had no idea how reality shifted from that moment onwards. The colours waltzing around her, red, orange and yellow all turned to monochrome, and by the time he fell against the mattress, every sense left him. The blonde seemed to hesitate about something, but in the end, that didn't matter either. He was wasted. He was going to close his eyes for two minutes, and then he'll see to everything.

* * *

The traffic in Piltover was awful. People had all sorts of devices to ride, the streets were full and the noises unbearable. How Talon ended up in Piltover, it was a mystery, as he didn't exactly enjoy the city. He'd rather play tag with the rats from Zaun, truth be told. Still, Piltover was the best place to gather information, so he wouldn't ignore visiting it because of silly reasons. Then again, Talon had a rather hard time leaving Ionia, for the one fact that a certain blonde had taken his cloak and never returned it. Granted, he had that coming since he cut her dress in two, but still.

The assassin stopped on the sidewalk, next to a food stand and decided to grab a bite while wrestling his hair out of his eyes. He definitely needed a haircut. But more importantly, with him stopping in Piltover, it meant that his quest around the continent was completed – minus Freljord and the Shadow Isles, but he was not going there. So what else was he to do?

Recently, Piltover invented some huge advertising platforms and live transmitted news coverage, for the citizens to look at from the streets. Such a live coverage was being transmitted at that moment, and Talon, like another few citizens, stopped to watch just what was presented in the news.

"Oh, look, the runaway queen returned to Demacia," an elderly person pointed out and soon that was the talk on the streets.

Indeed, it showed how the crowned prince, Jarvan the 4th and his to-be bride were getting ready for another engagement ball. Fancy suits, servants, expensive food, but none of it shocked Talon as much as the actual bride. He nearly dropped his sandwich, when he read her name, and associated it with her face. _Luxanna Crownguard_. She was shown walking around expressionlessly, forcing a smile or two then dropping it almost as quickly. The same slender figure, sun kissed hair, heart shaped face and cobalt eyes. Lux – Luxanna. Just how idiotic can a man be?

How in the world did he not make the connection? Sure, he had no idea what her name was, in the first place, but... He had just fucked the future queen of Demacia into the sheets, finished in her and also ruined her dress. With less than two days ago. Just... how fucked up can something become?

Tossing his remaining sandwich into the nearest bin, Talon pulled his hood over his face and turned his back at her bored expression. That was too fucked up for him to sit well. So Talon made a choice. There were many things he couldn't control – the earlier revelation was one of them – but the ones he _was_ capable of changing, he wouldn't wait one more day.

Talon was returning home.

* * *

Liked it? xd It's just the first chapter though, but I had fun writing it. And it might have a continuation sometime as well. Anyways, as mentioned in the summary, I'm going to write oneshots and pair up Talon with different chicks, so Talon will look forward to the gigolo life. That's it for me. Bye bye!


	2. On Rainy Nights (Talon & Quinn)

**On Rainy Nights**

 **Summary:** On the night one thing ended, something else had begun. But in times of war nothing was certain, and the idiots willing to be driven by their hearts would most certainly end up dead. He was different though, he had to be. Otherwise he wouldn't have gotten to where he currently was. Or was he?

 **Characters:** Talon, Quinn, Morgana, Katarina

 **Genre:** drama, action, romance, and a bit of comedy

 **Rating:** T

* * *

 _X_

* * *

 _The Past is mostly biased. Memories are messed up, and depending on the individual, shifted to what they want to make out of stuff. Maybe this memory was the same. It had to be. Otherwise, it would make no sense. Not that anything made much sense. On the day General Du Couteau had disappeared, the day Crimson Elite was forced to disband, and the day Swain took control of Noxus, Talon and Katarina were ambushed by a small group of assassins, probably sent out by a certain birdman to silence them once and for all._

 _The two most notorious assassins of Noxus weren't to be defeated by such weaklings, despite both of them being tired and annoyed by the stupid rain. So they did the one thing they were best at: fight. Outnumbered and fatigued, they managed to cut through most of the enemy, but even their stamina was coming to an end. So, with a mutual understanding, they nodded at one another, and the last thing Talon du Couteau saw in the dark, summer rain, was a fickle dance of red, as his sister disappeared in the shadows. He followed suit, taking a different road from her, heading to the lesser known streets. Sure, the rain messed up his hair, but that was the last of his worries. He passed a dark alley, when he heard steps. He was drenched, worn out and annoyed, and if one of the assassins had caught up with him, he certainly was in no mood to prolong his stay, as he was in enough danger already._

 _But it was far from what he expected. From the small alley, a person stepped out. At a closer look, it was a girl. She wore a red coat, now soaked, and some high heeled boots. She had long, dark hair, and that was all Talon could see, because he turned around to leave._

 _A soft cry and a loud thud stopped him again. He turned around, hesitating a bit, just to see the girl on the ground, clutching at her side. He gulped, and walked to her curiously, the knife on standby. Why was he acting out of character? Why didn't he just flee?_

 _A shade similar to her coat was spreading on the dirty ground, soon to be swallowed by the rain. The woman was bleeding._

 _Talon could care less. She must've been mistaken by one of his pursuers and shot down. Not that he cared. Why was she there in the first place? Still, curiosity got the best of him, and figuring he still had a few seconds before the assassins caught his trail, he wanted to take a look at her. He didn't care about the woman who would be his scapegoat, but the least he could do was take a look at her face. Of course, it was covered in that annoying thickness of her hair._

 _Flowers, some flowery scent was covering her, but the rain washed most of it off of her._

 _He did notice quite the scar on her left collarbone, which seemed rather new and not healed, but before he could pry some more, he felt multiple presences closing in on them and without much thinking, he turned on his heel and disappeared in the shadows._

* * *

 _X_

* * *

He awoke with a start, amber eyes widening twice their usual size, as he rose in a sitting position, calloused hand walking through long locks of hazel. His breathing was uneven and he could hear the drumming of his heart. That dream, he had that dream again. That fucking dream was haunting him again.

"Fucking dreams," he cursed under his breath, as he pushed the covers off of him and got out of his bed. The first thing he noticed was the pouring rain. Was there _any_ chance for it not to rain in Noxus? If there was, he had no recollection of it. As a Noxian to the core, he was most accustomed to the cold, rainy nights of Noxus. The same night seemed to annoy him to no end. Whenever he had that dream, that memory from years in the past, his mood always turned bitter.

Not because of the fact that he left a woman to die in his stead, not in the least (or that's what he would always tell himself), rather, it was for the fact that he couldn't see her face. That's the least he could do for her. Making a face, the man, tall with a lean body, long hair of hazel and amber eyes, decided to head out instead. So he changed into more casual clothes, deciding that his usual cloak of blades was not suited for a night of undetected drinking. That didn't mean he wouldn't be prepared with a few blades, though.

He could have sneaked out through his own window, but why would he? He wasn't a thief, after all. And if he wanted to use the main door, he would do just that. Even though that would mean comforting a certain redhead battling insomnia.

"Where are you going at this hour, little brother?" He rolled his eyes as he passed in front of the living room, where his sister, Katarina was busying herself with one of her novels. Red hair was long and playing with the flames, emerald eyes bearing into his amber ones.

"That's for me to know," he replied moodily, and added bitterly. "And don't forget that I'm the older sibling." Then walked past her.

Katarina scrunched up her nose and went back to her book. She knew better than to taunt Talon when he was in a bad mood. Then again, when was he not?

* * *

 _X_

* * *

It was past the witching hour, and most of the streets were empty. Common people surely knew how to handle the rules. On the other side, there was him, moving with the shadows, like a predator would hunt down its prey. The rain annoyed him to no end, but with his swift movements, the raindrops would barely crash onto him. He just needed to drink away those memories. Besides, it happened years ago, so why would he still cling onto the memory of a ghost?

Talon chuckled at that thought. That woman wouldn't be the first ghost to haunt him anyways. After all, they would just pile up and stare at his back. The victims that had fallen to his blades and the people he couldn't save. There was Kavyn, there was the General, and finally, the woman in red.

On rainy nights like that, overtaken by melancholia and emotions, he would quietly go there and drink away his weaknesses, and clean up his head. He had found that pub back when he was living on the streets, but after losing to the General, they went there to drink, and they would do that every now and then, after wrapping up missions for the Crimson Elite, or whenever Marcus got into a fight with Katarina. Oh, the memories... There were few things that would make a grown-up man cry, and a certain woman in red was among them.

Yes, it bothered him that he couldn't catch a glimpse of that woman's face, more than the fact that he sacrificed her for his own survival, but after all, that was the world they lived in. The strong people lived while the weaklings perished. Sure, the Talon from the present was a different man, he had more experience, and a stronger will, for he had made a promise to protect what remained of his family but... Just one more time, for just a moment would do. He would need just that, to see her face, and it would suffice.

The inn came into view, and, as it was in the slums of Noxus, most certainly it was filled with the regulars. Still, Talon landed on the sidewalk without making a sound, and quietly made his way into the inn. He wore quite the normal clothes, this time. Sure, most people knew who the _Blade's Shadow_ was and in what line of work he had made a name, but he wouldn't walk in there screaming 'Hey all, I'm a motherfucking assassin, and can wipe your asses on the floor.'

The assassin headed downstairs, into the basement, where the pub was located. As always, there were the usual drunks and the crappy blues, but the atmosphere was nice and pleasing. It gave a feeling of intimacy, especially because the bartender already knew him.

"Hello, Mr. Assassin. Another tough night?" The woman asked, corrupted wings deemed unable to fly casting shadows over the bar. Morgana was the best example of multitasking, as she was running the number 1 bakery in Noxus during the day, called the _Sinful Succulence_ , while serving heavenly drinks straight from hell at night. How she managed to fit all of that into her schedule, it was a mystery even for Talon. But for all he knew, Katarina was dying to eat the cookies made by the Fallen Angel.

She already knew what he preferred, so Talon simply sat at the bar. He greeted the woman curtly and looked around the pub, noticing how it was rather filled, even during a weekday. Or, well, night.

Morgana returned a few minutes later with his usual drink. Talon thanked her and proceeded on sipping from it. Self-destruction, he yearned for it. And he would have done that so long ago, had it not been for Katarina. He made a promise to Marcus du Couteau after all, to protect the temperamental redhead no matter what.

He drank and drank and drank, until he nearly lost himself. What good did all drinking do, if it only dampened his senses, and it couldn't even ease his heart? Talon hated alcohol for this very reason, despite the fact that he contradicted himself by drinking his sorrows away. Then again, he couldn't drown the ghosts, for they knew how to swim. And yet, when the doors of the pub opened a little past 3 in the morning, he considered Morgana's drink to have some magic mixed in it. Because, for some weird reason, it felt as though the world stopped around him and all he could focus on was the scent of lily of the valley and something sweet. He didn't have to turn around to check for himself, but he knew that whoever walked in was headed to the bar and was going to occupy the seat next to him. Oh, and how right he had been.

Talon pretended to be engrossed with his drink, as the woman – what a surprise, he had gotten that right as well – took a seat in the only open stool, and pulled the drenched hood off of her head, taking off the cloak altogether. The scent of the lilies intoxicated his nostrils and Talon made a face. With her every movement, he felt the scent more and more, much to his annoyance. And yet, he couldn't disclose the fact that she seemed rather... _curious_. To say the least. She had brown hair messily resting on her shoulders, pale skin and a navy jumpsuit covering her body. He didn't miss the crossbow on her right forearm, nor the way she was sitting in such a high and mighty way. Not even the fact that when his eyes met hers, Talon felt as though he had been captured by a whirlwind in autumn.

"What? You're staring." The woman spoke with narrowed eyes and an annoyed voice.

The assassin rolled his eyes. This woman was not womanly at all. She seemed more manly that most guys at High Command. "No matter how much attention you're seeking, hitting on a guy first thing in the morning won't do you any good." He retorted without a care, shifting his attention back to his drink. Why did this woman seem so familiar? There was something about her, something that just wouldn't sit right.

"Asshole," she coughed and turned to Morgana, wondering what to have. Eventually, she decided on something not too heavy but not that light either. It was late, after all, or just very early in the morning. Either would do.

Talon sneaked a couple of glances at her getup. The cloak gave nothing away, it was a plain, travelling one. Her jumpsuit though, with no symbols, nothing to play with her identity. Times were still uncertain, as talks about the Noxian-Demacian war to come to an end were taking place everywhere. Still, it didn't mean that certain... infiltrators wouldn't sneak around the two states, collecting evidence and whatnot. Amber eyes rested on her crossbow. It must have been handmade, or something, since it looked like a bird, supposedly. Then, it clicked together, like perfect pieces of a puzzle.

When Morgana returned, handling the woman her drink, Talon found the perfect opportunity to taunt her.

"Hey, Morg, since when are you serving Demacian spies?" He then asked without a care and the Fallen Angel's eyes widened in surprise, the assassin's question making the whole pub go silent.

But mostly, the woman next to him tensed up visibly. That's when Talon knew that he had been right. He wasn't certain, but his bluff ended up uncovering some truth. Her figure did seem familiar. He had seen her before, albeit from afar. If he wasn't mistaken – and he certainly wasn't, as proved earlier – she was a Demacian Ranger, someone who had crossed his path on many occasions over the last years. They would spot one another every now and then, on certain missions, but always from afar. And since their missions had nothing to do with one another, they'd ignore the other. Up until that point.

"Come on Talon, don't be a dick." Morgana spoke with a heavy sigh, sending murderous glances towards the assassin. He just shrugged and turned his attention to the woman.

Not to his surprise, he was met with a glare. At least the missy could hold her ground. "Are you picking a fight, scum?" She asked with a low voice, obviously not knowing just who she was messing with.

A grin widened on his face. If he wouldn't get a taste of self-destruction, a stupid bar fight would do as well. Noxus wasn't a closed state, after all, and anyone was allowed to enter, after negotiations opened. Most Noxians didn't agree with Swain and his ways of promoting peace with Demacia, so they'd pick a fight with anyone who wasn't Noxian. Talon wasn't an exception.

"Bold of you to call me that, missy." He taunted, turning towards her and taking out a blade from thin air.

The Ranger wasn't impressed by his trick and readied her crossbow. Around them, the pub emptied within seconds, as people, be them drunk or sober or in-between, knew when to run. Not that either of the two cared enough to notice. The tension was building up between them, but none of them was ready to make a move yet. Moving meant exposing themselves and it could lead to disaster. Besides, she was better off for ranged combat, while he was a goddamned assassin!

 _You just love getting involved in messy situations, don't you, Quinn? You and that big mouth of yours!_ She cursed inwardly, eyes never leaving the assassin. He seemed much more relaxed than she was, but maybe that's because he knew the pub better than she did, since it was the first time for her stopping by.

But the tension was eating at her patience, so she was the one to move first. She shot her crossbow then leaped backwards, putting some distance between them. Of course, Talon dodged that shot easily, but he got up as well, rising to his feet and finally facing her. She wasn't exactly the frail type, from what he noted, but she was still a woman, and if it came down to brute force, then, well... The victor was obvious.

Still, Talon preferred to be on the offensive, so, not even a second later, he disappeared from Quinn's sight, closing the distance between them and reappearing behind her. But she was quick on her feet, so she turned around before he could place his blade at her throat and kicked him with her foot, putting some distance between them once again. Her action did annoy the assassin, but at the same time, he was quite happy that someone managed to survive his surprise attack. Maybe this woman would serve as offering some fun.

"Not bad for a Demacian," he then added with a smirk, which pretty much contrasted his words.

Quinn rolled her eyes and readied herself for another assault. "Don't waste your breath, boy."

Talon moved with the swiftness of the shadows, headed straight towards her, but unfortunately missing his main weapon, so he'd have to handle her with only his smaller blades. He threw a curtain of them and leaped on the closest table, ready to rain down on her with his blades, when she shot her crossbow, and whatever was aimed at him, blinded his sight for a few seconds, forcing the assassin to back off.

But as he was vulnerable, Quinn took this opportunity to get closer towards him and kick him in his stomach and side, sending the assassin flying into a table, and tearing it into pieces. Still, she knew just that wasn't enough to make someone like that succumb, so Quinn awaited his next move.

"So you like it rough, huh?" Talon spoke with annoyance as he rose to his feet, and upon running slender fingers through his locks, he noticed a trail of crimson on his skin. Touching multiple spots on his head, he came to the conclusion that his forehead was bleeding. What's worse, the smell of the alcohol was printed onto his clothes, as he more or less landed on glasses and bottles.

It was a first, for someone to anger him so. The ever so cold and unmoving assassin was starting to lose his cool. All because a fucking Demacian Ranger decided to have a drink in his favourite pub. It could be said that she was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Talon would be sure to make it so. Steadying his shoulders and trying his best to ignore the ache in his head, he counted his blades and decided the remaining 8 he had on him would do. So, concentrating on her, he gathered the remaining of his strength and went all out in one final blow.

He hated alcohol, for it dampened his senses. He couldn't concentrate just as well, and sometimes he'd make the assassination painful for the victim. He'd miss the vital spot by an inch, and instead of a curt, sudden death, the victim would perish in torture.

That wouldn't be the case, however. Moving through the shadows almost undetectable, he threw out his remaining blades around the woman, and appeared behind her seconds later, managing to cut through her clothes, as she wasn't fully prepared. He was about to call back his blades and cut through her milky flesh, when he noticed a certain scar on her collarbone. His determination faltered then, as images from that goddamned dream resurfaced, and he lost the right pace. All sorts of thoughts raced in his mind, and most of them made no sense.

But as Talon was about to finish her off – or maybe call off her finishing blow – he found himself chained. Blinking twice, he noticed the Ranger was chained as well, by a dark, malicious binding, and soon, Morgana revealed herself, and she was practically fuming.

 _Oh boy._

"Just what do you think you're doing?!" She asked, barely holding back her anger.

Talon and Quinn shared a look then both faced the angry Fallen Angel. A dark energy surrounded the woman, and for some reason, they both had the feeling that they were going to spend their last seconds on this world in that situation.

"We got, uh... caught up in the moment." Talon heard himself say and a moment after, mentally face palmed himself. Talking back to Morgana when she was angry? Great job, Talon!

"Oh, really?" A vein popped on the bartender's temple, and Talon gulped in fear. He had made a huge mistake.

"We're sorry." Quinn spoke, with a similar voice of aggravation, and Talon sneaked a glance at her. She looked back at him and shrugged.

"Sorry? Of course you are sorry. You made a mess of my pub! Not to mention that it's going to take a while until I clean up. And what about the clients who will be too scared to return?! Huh? Because of you two!" And the rant went on and on.

"We... could help?" Quinn suggested and upon noticing that what she said angered Morgana even more, he was that close to scream at her.

"Help? But of course of you! Starting from now, at that!" The Fallen Angel shouted at them, releasing the two from her bindings. "You can start by cleaning up the tables and everything you broke!"

And then she went to the back, looking for whatever she needed, leaving the two alone. Talon was flabbergasted. Just how did he end up in that situation?! All because of that stupid Ranger and her big mouth. He was better off kicked out in the rain, than having to clean up. But what to be expected of Demacians and their busybody personalities?

The assassin stood in the middle of the room, scratching the back of his head and flinching when his wound started to bleed again. That woman certainly did kick like a bull. Just what were they feeding Demacians with? Not to mention, that scar... Stealing glances from her, Talon saw how she complained about her ruined attire, and the scar was visible on her left collarbone once again. So he didn't imagine it, in the end. Still, it made no sense. Could it be a coincidence? He certainly did _not_ believe in coincidences, but it was too much.

"Now what?" Her voice brought him back from his thoughts and as Talon blinked his way back to reality, he didn't fail to notice how her tone was coated with annoyance. She had a hand resting on her hip, showing a rather casual pose.

Still, she was a mess, just as he was. "Why is it so hard to be kicked out instead?" Talon found himself asking with annoyance.

His head ached, and the dizziness inflicted by the alcohol was slowly starting to fade. He was turning sober, and outside was still raining. Why was it so hard to just... get in a brawl with someone then move on? What was wrong with that stupid woman?

Quinn looked at him with an unbelievable expression, regarding Talon's earlier comment. How could she just leave as if she never got involved, when she was one of the two starting a fight, in the first place? And she had injured him, on top of that. Still, the atmosphere shifted from murderous to just awkward, so she took advantage of that and stepped towards him, grabbing a random clean cloth from the bar. She watched as he watched her every movements, and she watched him stand in one place, that tall and handsome man with such a bad personality. When she stopped in front of him, she barely realised how tall he was next to her, despite the fact that she wasn't on the short side herself. She lifted her hand to place the cloth over his bleeding forehead, her whole body in trance of his eyes. Such a deep shade of amber, she felt as though she were swimming in honey.

But, just as she was about to touch him, his hand snaked out without a warning, grabbing onto her wrist. The Ranger winced a bit, but that was it. More than an act of surprise, she would never give him.

"Where did you get that scar?" His question surprised her, but Quinn followed his eyes and noticed he was looking at her barren shoulder. Her brassiere was showing, and under other circumstances she'd be embarrassed. Then, for some reason, she was held captive, and not by his hard grip only.

"What's it to you?" She replied with a question of her own and his grip tightened around her wrist. Luckily, it wasn't the one with her crossbow, so she could easily shoot him, if she wanted to. Maybe.

Talon made a face. It was a surprise, really, to find the Blade's Shadow, have a quarrel with him and even survive. Or well, up to that moment. Quinn had spotted him from time to time, and she could hardly fight the drive to move closer to him, to trace him, to find out more about him. Why, she had no idea, but ever since failing her first mission in Noxus, and nearly losing her life, she had wanted to meet the man she had fallen prey to and pay back the favour. She couldn't see his face very well, but ever since seeing Talon for the first time, whenever she thought about _that_ man, it was always the said assassin that came to her mind. Weird.

"Don't make me repeat myself. Where did you get that scar from?" He was starting to lose his patience. He was tired, annoyed and wanted answers. It was the first time, in nearly five years, that he'd come this close to uncovering the woman in red who had been haunting him, and he wouldn't back off, no matter what.

He felt the coldness of her crossbow against his neck, as he grabbed onto her wrist more forcefully and slightly lifted her off the ground, but his eyes never left hers. Still, Quinn felt much more uncomfortable than Talon did, and he knew he'd be able to dodge before she shot. Then again, he desperately needed answers.

"I," the Ranger flailed in his grasp, unable to set herself free. "I got it a long time ago, when I was still a trainee." She then let out through gritted teeth.

All right, but that didn't answer much. So his next action surprised both of them. Talon cut through her jumpsuit, revealing the soft skin of her hips and stomach. Quinn shrieked at that, but even as she dug the crossbow deeper into his neck, the assassin wouldn't bounce. He didn't expect to find another scar where the woman was injured, back in the memory-turned-dream, but when he did spot the traces of a scar not healed correctly, his blood froze in his veins.

The woman who had been haunting him in the past years, the one he had used to escape, the one who wouldn't let him sleep... She was there, in front of him. It had to be her, right? Blood drained from his already pale features and his head was starting to become dizzy. His grip loosened around her wrist, so Quinn could easily free herself, first thing. The crossbow retracted from his neck as well, a ghostly whisper of a touch.

"T-that scar, where did you...?" He couldn't finish his question as the dizziness and loss of blood had taken over his body.

Talon prepared himself for a hard crash onto the ground, but instead, someone grabbed onto him and he ended up sitting on the ground. With a heavy sigh, Quinn kneeled on the ground next to him and began cleaning up the blood around his forehead and gently pressing it against the wound, to stop the excess of blood from getting out. The man reeked of alcohol though.

"I suppose we both were chasing ghosts these past years. It was my first mission, back then, on a rainy night like this. I was to find information about you and Katarina, but ended up wearing the wrong stuff, and because I was sloppy, I got shot. Guess I took a bullet for you, back there. It's a wonder I managed to escape from Swain." She spoke, without looking at him. How could she?

Her hatred towards the man who abandoned her in that alley was the only thing driving her to survive and live through that torture, only to find the strength to escape one day. And ever since, all Quinn could do was ask for as many missions in Noxus as possible, until she would meet the man whose face she no longer remembered, and to exact revenge in the end.

And yet... why was she taking care of the man she had sworn to murder in cold blood? Was it those eyes of amber that dawned upon her? Or the fact that he was holding her waist without her noticing, or the raw desire to run her hands through those messy locks? Damn, she had no idea, but what she knew for sure, that she was getting lost in him.

Lily of the valley mixed with alcohol wasn't the best option. But for him, it was the best he could grab onto. It was a first, for Talon to find himself at a crossroad. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do. He had found her, the ghost in his memories, the woman in red – though she was wearing different colours – and he had no idea what to do with her. Well, he didn't plan on killing her, so that was a start. And she didn't plan on killing him either, for the moment.

"Oh great!" The annoyed voice of a certain Fallen Angel broke the silence between them, forcing Quinn to jump away from Talon's touch. "I leave for two minutes to gather stuff to clean up, and these two are hooking up!" Morgana continued with annoyance as she walked to the two and threw brooms and dustpans at them.

"We're not..." Quinn protested with a blush creeping on her cheeks, as she walked up and grabbed a broom and stole a glance from Talon.

He shrugged without a care, as he was aiding his wound.

Morgana literally flipped a table at that. The Ranger and the assassin shared a look missing enthusiasm. "By the lord! I get my pub messed up because of a lovers' quarrel! And now they're back together, like the lovey-dovey couple they are. What did I do to deserve this?! I curse you, Kayle!" And the nagging continued.

The rain outside didn't falter, as the Ranger and the assassin began to clean up their mess. There were many uncertainties lingering in the air, and neither of them knew how to properly grasp onto that new feeling which presented itself, but it was a start.

Well, at least they didn't kill one another in the end. The rest will work out, somehow. Maybe.

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 **Note:** Well, I had so much fun writing this one xD But really, someone teach me how to write shorter oneshots I did not mean to have it so long, but I can't control myself. There's so much to write and ugh. Thank you for all the support you've shown towards my stories 3 I am very happy you enjoy my silly writing :'D I can't promise lots of updates though, cause I took a long break from writing and now it's kind of hard writing, so I might still suffer from writer's block or pure laziness (and uni and all that), so I'm sorry. I'll try my best from now on as well, tho :D Well, at least I'll try my best here, since in League I'm still a nub and a feeder. I wonder how I got to my elo lmao.


	3. Twelve Minutes in Paradise (Talon & Kat)

**Twelve Minutes in Paradise**

 **Summary:** He's never felt truly safe in this world. Not until he met her, and had her opened like a flower. She never thought she could trust anyone with her soul. Her principle has changed, when he stepped in her life.

 **Characters:** Talon, Katarina

 **Genre:** Romance, Smut

 **Rating:** M

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The night is moonless, perfect for the jaywalkers to get out of their confined shadows. His basement is lighted with artificial bulbs, waiting to go out one by one. Elegant clothes fall off piece by piece, soon to be replaced with black and shiny ones, unable to reflect the light. One last glance in the mirror, a ruffle of obsidian hair. He cleans the last trails of bloody lipstick off his plump lips and takes his gear.

The hunter in the night, ready to conquer the lightless prism of the dark.

And soon, he is out in the city, hidden by the shadows, making his way up, on the building's glassy walls. The man is strong, undefeatable. He arrives at the wished floor, cuts the glass and slides in. His face is covered, and so is the rest of his presence. He is nothing but a phantasm. The Blade's Shadow, the darker side of humanity.

His cloak of blades waltzes behind him with his every movement, serving as his veil during the night. The curtain separating his humanity from his inner demons. Soon, this night will come to an end, and by morning, he will be in the protective arms of his beloved.

The darkest night hides the deepest secrets. When the moon is on watch, the shadows come to life, expressing their sins to the mundane world. With the light covered, any lie can become Truth, and every truth can be disqualified, labelled as Lie. Night time is such an ambiguous path, giving and taking life respectively.

The silent steps of the man go unnoticed by nature. There have to be no unnecessary complications; he cannot endanger her in any way. And besides, the change of scenery seems to do him just good. It's the latter hours of the night, when the true faces of things come to life. The wind seems colder, the moon sharper, the forest darker. But none of it intimidates him, for that is exactly what he's been searching for. The wilderness of the forest coming in contrast with the beastly city.

Just a few minutes, before he will see her. He misses her so much… The prettiest of them all, what a foolishly romantic would call 'the love of one's life'. What a cheesy thing to say. And, truth to be told, there was a time he had also thought that way. Before she happened. Now, he's immersed in loving her, and his ultimate purpose is to keep her safe.

The branches slowly start to part, revealing a small, wooden house, with the lights turned on in a room. The man's heart seems to beat faster, stronger, wilder, overwhelmed by sentiments and the certainty of seeing her again. Unable to stop himself, he cuts the night, rushing towards her. Still, he slows down once he arrives to the front door, not to scare her uselessly. Not that anyone would know of the secret path, or the small house residing on the woods, but one can never be too certain.

He knocks on the door; two fast sounds and then slowly opens it, stepping in the house. The lights turn on one after another, until the whole place succumbs to the light. A small smile appears on his face. He undoes the laces on his boots then proceeds to get his cloak of blades off as well, heading to the kitchen only afterwards. And what he finds there, it only proves him once more that everything is worthy.

Before him, by the stove, the woman of his life stands, smiling at him like never before. Or well, relatively speaking. She wears a loose white dress, which is almost transparent, but he doesn't care. Her skin just as white, her eyes emerald like a blooming spring, and her hair… _Red_. Beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the whole world, the one person he'd go to hell and beyond for, if she would ask him to. The one woman who fought for him until she bled, until neither of them were able to walk or move a muscle, both of them left to die in the rain.

"Talon, you're finally here." She says with a gentle voice, as she steps towards him, bony hands resting on his tired face.

"Yes, Katarina, I am finally _here_." He replies with a similar gentleness, holding his calloused hands on top of hers. He leans into her touch, and the two lovers enjoy each other's company, the rhythm of their heartbeats.

However, the peace is interrupted, with the boiling of the milk, so the woman, Katarina quickly pulls away, to turn off the stove. She then turns to Talon, with a tired smile: "I thought to make you something warm to drink."

Talon nods and in the following seconds, he wraps his arms around her thin waist, forcing himself to hold back a grimace, when sensing her thinness. Instead, he places a soft kiss on her forehead, by the temple, her eyes, lingering over her scarred one, the tip of her and inevitably… her lips.

"Oh, how much I missed you!" Talon then whispers painfully.

Katarina smiles weakly and kisses him on the lips again.

"So did I. But go take a bath. I'll make some cocoa and fix something to eat." She then suggests, and the man only agrees.

The assassin heads to the bathroom, allowing the hot water to run. In the meanwhile, he takes off his tee and unbuckles his belt, unzipping his pants, but leaving them on eventually. Steam begins to cover the mirror, but the dark haired man whips it off, using his palm. In the end, he's met with the tired face of a man, who looks older than his actual age. Pale skin takes on a rather sickly shade, amber eyes without a light and two dark circles carved deeply under his eyes. His hair is curling above his shoulders in a hot mess, and his jaws are rather perturbing. There's also a bit of stubble grown on his face, but Talon doesn't feel like shaving, for he knows how much Katarina enjoys it, when his stubble caresses her bare skin.

Light steps echo around the kitchen and the amber eyed man notices the tube is filled with water. He takes off his pants and boxers, steps in the tube, allowing the warm water to sneak through his bones.

An involuntary sigh leaves his lips, and that's when Katarina steps in, smiling a bit.

"Do you like my bathroom to such an extent?" She half-jokes, as she sits by the tube, handing him the mug of cocoa.

It's one of Talon's guilty pleasures, sipping something while taking a bath.

"Yeah. But I love it with you in it." Talon replies with that boyish smile of his and sneaks his arm around her neck, bringing Katarina in for another kiss.

She chuckles and rolls her eyes. Some things never change.

"Do you want some essence? I've got strawberry and chocolate, cherry and liqueur, vanilla and cinnamon…" And Katarina goes on and on with the aromas, not noticing the eyes filled with love, which Talon directs towards her.

"I want _your_ essence."And he means it. His soul is yearning to feel her skin, to settle inside of her core, to get into her blood. He loves her so much, that the time spent away from her drives him mad.

Katarina looks at him with her eyes burning of passion, her body yearning to be filled by him. There has to be no verbal answer, for they can communicate by gestures, thoughts. Such mundane conversations – through words! – it's unimaginable for people like Talon and Katarina. And to prove that, the redhead dives her hand in the water, pouring it gently over his chest and back respectively. She then runs her fingers through his hair, not even wetting it, only to finally speak.

"Finish your bath. I'll wait in the room." Her clear voice says, and she gives him a chaste kiss on his scarred left shoulder.

And Katarina offers him a few minutes, until Talon washes his body off of the sins, until he warms his soul with the cocoa, until he feels ready to come to her side like a man, and to make her feel like a woman again.

She stops by the window from her bedroom, her long arms hugging her thin front; watching her reflection. Her hair is all over the place, and the white dress seems a bit transparent – not that she minds. She looks tired, awfully tired. It might be due the light or the time of the night, but Katarina feels so tired, and insatiable. She hasn't seen Talon for weeks, though she knew nothing bad had happened to him. Feel free to call it a silly way of thinking, but to her, it meant the world. Under no way would her heart keep on beating, if Talon's ceased to exist. No; their closure was deeper than most can imagine. They shared a love unattainable by almost everyone else. And when she thinks back to the not-so far past, when she'd always ignore him, make fun of him… In the end, Talon had been right: there is no one else for her but him.

Talon understands her as much as she feels him. Like now, for instance. Katarina feels his steps through closed lashes, listens to his irregular heartbeat, is seized by the scent he bears. It's no product, no shower gel or perfume. It is, still, similar to wood and smoke; _Talon_. It's the scent of his body and she could never get enough of him.

Protective arms rest around her waist, and he leans his head into her bared shoulder, Katarina being able to feel his stubble. She tilts her head to meet his, and with an arm, she ruffles up his messy hair further.

"I missed you," Katarina whispers through half-closed lids.

"I missed you more." He confesses, securing his arms around her thin frame, pulling her closer to him.

Talon straightens his back, growing considerably in height, compared to the thin her. His eyes open as well, and they watch themselves in the mirror. Lust mixed with love, and so their essences come alive. The burning in his eyes, while watching her desire, feeling the need of him. They cannot be separate, for they are two impenetrable forces, similar to yin and yang. One's disappearance would bring the other's downfall.

He pushes her dress, slowly off her shoulder, hungrily covering each portion of newly discovered skin, with his full lips. He would never get enough of her. Katarina helps him out, and the dress falls to the floor with ease. His mouth is over her shoulders, neck and arms and then Talon twirls her around with ease.

When she does that, both of them are faced with revelations. Katarina notices he only wears his boxers, while Talon sees his shameful past reflected in the mirror. Guilt takes him over, and a strong need to hold her blinds his mind. Images of a burning hell resurface, her unconscious and bloody self, his raged one. The consequences are, of course, visible: a huge burning mark covering the whole of her back, looking like a cobweb of a sort. She's tainted. Talon, himself the one having her broken. He broke her because of his stupidity, he tainted her because he desired to have her, even though the rules clearly forbade his desire. In the end, he had to burn a whole city down, and together with it, his humanity as well.

All, for the sake of one woman.

He runs his tongue over his lips, and feels how his body was shaking. He hadn`t shared her bed for such a long time, and finding himself in her bedroom, with her in his arms is a dream came true. However, the biggest miracle of them all, is to be able to hold his beloved Katarina, a force so strong and affecting, in his arms.

"I'll make you mine," he whispers, lowering his head towards her, his lips brushing against her fringe, "gently."

It surprises the redhead, but gentleness and Talon are such a sweet combination. Granted, they won't come together as often as she'd like to, but seeing this side of him, showcased only to her, it's more than anything she could desire. And when he presses his lips slowly against her hair, thousands of butterflies flutter inside of her stomach, making her nervous, like the first time she had given herself to a man.

His lips trail lower from her forehead, over her eyes, her nose, and slowly rest on her lips. Oh, how he loves this woman! Who is she, a creation of man? No, no, no! It is impossible, such a divine being to be of flesh and blood and bones. For she is his, solemnly, eternally.

His touch is electrifying, and she cannot wait for more. She wants more and more. Responding to his kiss, and walking her own hands over his strong back, she arches herself against him, making him moan.

"Kat..." His breath comes out ragged, and he has the desperate urge to touch her.

Walking his hands over her legs, leaving burning spots all over her, Katarina shows her impatience by forcing him backwards, and towards the bed. He lands on his back, with her over him.

"Talon," she whispers, and air is suddenly stolen from her lungs.

The tips of his fingers circle over her skin, making her melt against his touch.

But Katarina won't give up, and pulls him in for yet another fierce kiss. They are mouth on mouth, and it feels like the most right thing in the world. Taking selfishly, more and more, but wanting to give nothing in return, each of them stand their grounds, trying to gain the other's control, while not losing theirs. Or, well, it used to be like that, once. Now… their kisses are about offering everything, even their own souls, if needed.

And Talon shifts positions, tangling themselves in her black sheets.

He is exploring her soft skin, walking his fingers up and down her stomach, her sides, and softly cupping her breasts. Katarina runs her palms over his strong chest, his shoulder blades, and his abdomen as well, loving how strong he is above her, while she is so easy to melt under him.

"Take me." A weak demand, but that is exactly what Talon wants to do.

"Patience, love," he whispers softly, and presses his lips over her temple.

Patience is something Katarina never had.

His hands roam her exposed body, as if it were the first time he took her. His intention is still the same, though: to make love to her.

"Beautiful." He coos against her skin, and begins to kiss her skin from her stomach upwards.

"Oh, Talon!" Katarina moans, and digs her fingers deep in his hair, scrapping his scalp.

He takes one of her breasts in his mouth, while massaging the other, licking, softly biting, and playing her however he wants.

She moves her hand lower, tracing the trail of hairs form his navel until it disappears under the hem of his boxers. Talon is a bit surprised by her boldness, but it's not something he hates. Katarina is known to be the unpredictable type.

Katarina rubs herself against him, after pulling off his boxers, loving the friction against his growing erection. Talon can't hold back a few moans, and, in some hasty movements, begins to please her with more intensity.

He prepares her body, leaves her on the edge and aching for him, while she does the same for him.

"Now, Talon, now!" Katarina pleads, and he, too, can't wait anymore.

He needs her, needs her oh-so badly.

Lowering his head to her stomach, he leaves behind butterfly kisses on her skin, making Katarina want him more. Exchanging his lashes with his lips, he kisses her down to her womanhood, taking in everything she has to offer.

Her nails dig deep in his scalp, and she moves his head how she likes it. Moaning out loud, she rotates her hips, so he would pleasure her more. Katarina hooks her legs around his head, nearly suffocating him, but Talon could care less; he would only pleasure her. His talented tongue knows how to make her succumb.

"Talon!" She is near, and comes later with a loud scream, which leaves her body shaking violently, the after-shocks making her light-headed.

But he offers her not more than a few moments' worth of rest, because he enters her with one long and strong thrust.

Katarina arches her back, but he is holding her, kissing her throat, her collarbone then taking her breast between his lips. She is holding onto him with outmost despair.

"I don't want to hurt you." A weak whisper escapes his lips, and he begins to move, slowly, steadily.

She hooks her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and ravages his lips with a thirst which is almost beastly.

He groans against her lips and moves faster and faster, taking all of her.

Katarina is arched all against him, her breasts brushing his chest, and she clings to him desperately.

"You're driving me insane..." He confesses against her hair.

She is about to reply, when he hits her sweet spot, which makes her whole body tremble.

"Talon!" She screams out, and forgets about herself. His love is overwhelming.

She moulds her body against his, once again, riding the pleasure alongside him.

Talon keeps on hitting her sweet spot, and Katarina loses focus of everything else. She wants it harder, stronger, faster, deeper, wilder. And he does everything to grant her wish.

A few more thrusts, and he makes her come, screaming out her name. A few more thrusts, and he comes as well, showering her with warmth and... affection. Ragged breaths and sweaty bodies, a mess coming to life as the after-effect of love. He loves this woman, and the only thing on his mind is to keep her safe.

Talon pulls himself out of her, and settles on the pillows, while Katarina cuddles to his side, their legs tangled over the sheets. Her skin ghostly pale, sweaty, but more feminine than ever. The man pushes a few strands of hair away from her sweaty forehead, pulling her closer.

"I love you… To death and beyond."


End file.
